Body and not the Bread

I'm sick of you sending me Biblical verse
as if they are a cure-
rather, from your lips a curse.
For what could be worse?
I am not found in a page outworn-
I am found in the midst of a storm,
treading water as the King cries out
for me to walk
follow believe.
You send me words
but I drown in the thought
that you never felt an inch for me
and look at how far I've got.
I want, need, to wish you had never said hello-
For I will never be what you want
simply a sister in a large family
I cannot fulfill this companionship
when I want the body and not the bread.

nicotine

Nicotine notes
of missed goodbyes.
Torn threads,
Ragged remains-
passing for our hollow hello.
You know and-
I know,
That, this-
well, this isn't going anywhere.
I tried to give it life.
You kept up the breathing,
but your asthmatic rhythm-
Cut us off.
I soaked up your toxicity,
your second-hand excuses.
I forgive you for taking my lungs,
and filling them with air-
that left me,
once breathless
now grounded and gasping.
I'm picking up the scent again,
of gravel and bike grease.
I'm tying my shoes twice
as if somehow
the decay in my deepest, cavernous parts,
will stop.
Nicotine kills quietly yet chaotic-
a scent of you beneath it's musk.

I didn't blog yesterday because I was absolutely exhausted as I am tonight, but my blog and my life deserve some attention. Bare with me as this may be a very random and un-centered rant...

Tomorrow I have to go to the dentist and I am NOT looking forward to it! My gums are decayed and disgusting and I know it's my own fault. So I deserve it. I deserve the massice pain my mouth is going to be in tomorrow. God, it's going to hurt. I just flossed and there was a bloodbath, I"m pretty sure that's not supposed to happen. Hopefully I will be okay... yikes!

In other news, I cheated... I went on facebook on my phone... and I feel like giving up. I miss talking to him at night. I'm sure he doesn't even think twice. But that's what I'm trying to avoid, right? Men. But what if talking to him was good for me? We talked about things of worth and value. I miss it. I wish I could just stop.

Work has been good lately, getting along better with my co-workers. I actually got to make drinks today which was wonderful! I love working the bar so much.

So many sows I want to go to: Atmosphere, Monolith, Rod Stewart... lol

Well, nothing deep tonight... perhaps another day.

Scones and Thunderstorsm

It was so hard...
my morning routine has been broken. I typically grab my coffee and facebook every morning and my ritual has been halted by my awakening. One of my awakenings occurred only a few hours argo. I realized tonight how precious family is. In the midst of late night scone creations a possible tornado warning invaded our quiet evening. We all rushed to the basement, some more hesitant than others, to turn on the television to reassure ourselves of the eminent danger or the childish fear that dragged us away from the floury mess upstairs on the kitchen counter. While we sat watching the reporter indicate when and where the storm was hitting around us, my sister browsed through an old journal I had written back in 1st grade. I am proud to say that I was quite the articulate six-year-old. However, a lot of even way back when was spent on me desiring for this and that person to be my friend. "I like Julie, Annn, and Melissa but Julie is my best friend!" Cute, I know, right? Now flash forward to today... I still am longing for that community. It seemed so much easier when we were little, right? Now there are so many things that can get in the way. Still, there is a group of people in my life that I haven't given enough recognition; my family. My family has loved me through thick and thin. I have let them down a lot lately, and I get a lot of smack from them sometimes, but they still love me. But I'm scared. What if I mess up so bad that they don't want to love me anymore? Who will I turn to then? I know I can always turn to God, but I need community here. I need touch, not the type I've been searching out lately, but just a hug. It sounds silly, but it's a vital part of me. I love my family and I know they love me, I'm just worried that if they knew the whole me they wouldn't feel like loving me so much anymore. I pray that You will give me Trust Lord that my family will take care of me no matter how far i have fallen. Please keep me safe and forgive me for my mistakes. I really can't afford to have them follow me anymore. I want to change and be that child eagerly writing in her journal of all the friends she made and the seemingly uninteresting adventures she has taken part in. Now it's time to sleep... I love You Lord.

Safe Place

You whisper a song over me
I'm slow to answer,slow to speak
I found a safe place

How wide is your love
How high, how deep- it's untouched
And I'm not enough
I've found a safe place in You

Remember the day You called my name
I was a stranger in Your house but just the same
I've found a safe place

You are the One my heart is waiting for
You are my treasure, You are my key and You are the door
You hold me quiet, You hold me tight, You hold me safe

Today I was listening to this song written as part of Enter the Worship Circle I became so moved. This song was written as a response to Psalm 84, a Korah Psalm. I had no idea what this meant and I'm still a little bit unsure. With a bit of google research I found an article on JSTOR that explains that the sons of Korah were temple door keepers. Interesting. Seated right outside the temple, but maybe never to enter the presence of God in His fullness. Yet, still they knew glimpses of what it felt like in His presence, relying on that as enough to satiate their trust and appetite. I may be very off from where this was meant to go, but I feel very similar to the sons of Korah.
I have stood outside of the presence and understanding of God's fullness. I have looked in on the beauty and felt the presence, but I have not taken the step inside, the commitment to letting myself be fully in His presence and under His control. While I know and can see the joy that comes with dwelling in His house, there is also fear for me. I find my strength in stuff that momentarily fills the void: money, sex, power, attention... the list would go on and on. I wish I could surrender that control, and I know I can, but I will not be shoved into God's presence. I need to make the executive decision, it's my job to step into his presence and let Him be my shield and fight my fights for me, so I don't have to. It sounds so refreshing, to not have to worry so much anymore, that an omnipotent God has my back, but it's not. At least not for me. But it should be! It shouldn't be this hard to surrender and nest in his provisions and find a safe place in Him, but for some reason I find my idea of safety and comfort isn't always parallel to what His is. However, verses 11 & 12 state otherwise: "For the Lord is a sun and a shield; the Lord gives grace and glory; Now good thing does He uphold for those who walk uprightly" (Psalm 84:11),but here's the kicker... or the punchline, I guess, verse 12 "Oh Lord of Hosts, How blessed is the man who trusts in You." The Lord will provide a place for me, a shelter, and dwelling in that presence all else will seem like shambles. I just need to step away from the temple door and walk inside and make the commitment to live in that glory, rather than watching it from the outside.

Amen

Wake Up my Beloved... Arise and Shine

In recent events of last night, I now know going out to clubs is not for me...
I know this is not poetic, but it's honest, at the club sex is right there in your face. I thought maybe it would be a fun distraction (not sex rather dancing having a few drinks perhaps), but rather the event became even more of a reminder of how much I need to stay away from these types of places,and how much sexual desire has corrupted the beautiful person God created me to be. Not sexual desire in the general sense, there is a healthy place for it, but I can't seem to draw that line lately and as a result I have become very broken. I am disgusted by what I see from those around me, but what makes me any better? Last night just reinforced that I need God's pure and unending love even more than ever. I am lonely sometimes, but I shouldn't be. Somewhere deep in that silence there is a Heavenly Love whispering in my ear. I am His beloved child, who He made in his own image. Regardless of my scars and extra pounds... I am still his beautiful masterpiece. Why can't I see that? Why does it take an Adam to remind me that I am Eve, that I was made because it was not good that man be alone.
I was made because was a disorder in God's creation. That doesn't mean I need to go fit my rib into every man trying to find where I fit... Rather, I need to wait and stop. I'm starting a fast tonight. I've never done it before. I feel like last night was a wake up call. I don't want to be seen as just a body to use for pleasure. God gifted me with a mind and passion to write and sing for Him. I pray that He will awaken in me the pure and grant me patience. I'm waking up now finally...

Fasting

fasting-
I need to fast from my thoughts. I want to just escape for a weekend, somewhere, in silence to just think. still, I think I'd go crazy. I am selfish. People try to talk about things of substance and I lose interest. I am distracted by worlds I don't belong in. Why can't I be content with this person seated here right now?

On Tuesday I had to tell the truth, that I'd been falling back into my old patterns of sleeping around and casually giving pieces of my heart to people who don't deserve it. It was so refreshing to talk to a guy for once about something other than sex. Yet, I miss the attention, no matter how wrongfully directed it was. So I quit the dating website and don't meet up with random guys. First step I guess.

Now what to consider next? YWAM? Fasting... Support Group? I need prayers and strength. The music I listen to may not be helping, all about love that I can't quite understand... that I lust and covet over, yet it's so beautiful.

Lord speak to me please and help me feel you rock back to sleep what was so rudely awakened...

Poem #8: Landscape Poem

Upstream

Topaz topography
and turquoise ripples,
echoes of lost landscapes.
Icy cold and freckled parts
covered in cotton and sipping chamomile.
Our backs, our pillars,
as we support each ones fragile framework.
“Trees can talk. Did you know that?”
You gently move away auburn strands
from my unsure eyes.
“I can hear them singing out song.”
Cracked palms
weave their way
tangled tight between
what was once so tangible.
This moment,
interrupted-
by a gull’s covetous cries.
Hills and hills and hills-
pathways open to eager eyes.
And we are here.
Our island of insecurities
disappeared on this rusting river.
Where our bolder selves
explored the caves inside and out-
discovering each other in the cold, dark and uncomfortable.
Now blankets cover damp eyes
red.
A fire madly rages on-
a dance,
a tango for two.
But your eyes won’t meet mine.
“Trees can talk”
you once said.
Their chorus must have been lost in the oceans of blue.

Poem #4: Sleep

Sleep

Placed in a deep sleep.
From fall
to fashioning.
you were made out of my ribs.
Dust and dirt,
one in flesh.
“Oh my god!” she cries.

You are of my flesh
you were made out of my ribs,
dust and dirt.

When did this separation occur?
A serpent so stunning
took you from me
and blame and shame erupted
as leaves tried to cover
my mistake.
“Oh my god?” she questions.

Now opened up,
united.
Longing for
a soul sharing intimacy
beyond this heavy breathing
and empty groans.
Transcending the touch,
“Oh my god” she sighs.

Made out of my ribs
you took a part of me.
Searching for this Eden
I don’t know where you are
but when you find me
I shall be your Eve.

Poem #3: Collection Poem

Seashells

Sally sells seashells by the seashore
gritty grains on the ocean floor.
Seashells
Seashells
by the sea shore.

Scraped knees
sand dollars,
innocent laughter.
Hallucinations
of half hearted hollers
directed towards my name.
We come home,
to display
bruises and bouquets,
of every color.
Adventures.
Taming the mild mannered man
my loving grandfather.

A conch,
ear to ear
the hum of the ocean’s edge.
Outcry,
outraged by his lack of response,
outside of myself
I’m washed upon the shore.
A message in a bottle
never arrived
and the shells collect dust
in forgotten paper bags
stuffed under your goose down pillows.
They disappear behind wrinkles,
and laugh lines,
never to return.
I just wish he remembered my name,
my face.

I read to him
a Psalm
out of a tattered Bible,
as he traced the outline
of a dead and dry starfish.
He was out at sea,
drifting away,
but the outline of that starfish
and his fingers
for a moment...

I think he remembered my name.

Poem #2: Metaphor/Simile

Tin Cans

Tin cans
clothed in shrapnel
and medals of honor.
They methodically clink
behind the happy processional.
Welcome home to the
freedom fighters,
war mongers,
glory seekers.
Those shot down in battle,
or in childish games
of target practice.
When red blood sells
morale contains no sound.
Yet echoes vibrate through bloodied ground,
rhythmic undulations
ringing in the ears
of corpses
given no name or face.
Whether iron or irony
welcome home,
war is over.
Peace came in pieces
to the tin can soldier.

Poetry Collection: Poem #1 Imagery

Balloon

Once you may have have flown high-
a signal for the lost,
lustful,
and languid.
Now,
deflated and limp you let out a sigh.
Or was it a sign,
unsure as to whether or not
it was your time to surrender?
I found you tightly tied
to a steel pole
your umbilical chord to this stagnant state,
shown wet with the dew of this new morning.
I took salty hands and sweaty brow and stumbled upon a surrender
that I had no right to supply.
Removing you from your complacent state,
Stirred by the static and sensual.
So beautiful,
your red,
a deep red-
Red streaked with residue
from the soiled fingertips
that traced your rubbery skin.
Now here on my desk,
lifeless.
Your damp carcass of man made skin.

June 17/18, 2009

I didn't write last night because I was too busy making bad decisions. Tonight I'm hoping that I won't repeat myself again. For my poetry class we have to write a short 3-4 page paper on one of our favorite poems. This task is a bit daunting as I love practically every poem I come in contact with. I'm stuck between two authors: Mark Doty and Benjamin Alire Saenez. Both of them evoke emotion and images that I identify very closely with and therefore each poem moves me to the point that I really don't know how to choose. Silly rant on my academics, but nonetheless, if anyone does read this they should check them out!

So I have a "date" tomorrow... not sure how that's going to go.

I'm tired and my blog has not been very inspirational lately. Hopefully I'll take more time to focus and stuff in the next one?

June 16,2009

Silly, silly Sarah...
who can you really trust these days?
Ideas of devotion and respect are old fashioned it seems.
I want them to be resurrected, in a man.
A man who probably doesn't exist.

Criteria (warning utter shallowness lies ahead):
I want a boy with high top shoes
to sing me the black top blues
to ride up on a shiny fixed gear
and whisper sweet lyrics in my ear
bright eyes
the first day of my life
or something more surreal
he'll stroke his scruff
and show off his tough
I heart mom tattoo

But really...
I know what I want... not what I need. Not what GOD has in store for me. Somedays I honestly wonder if I'll figure it out when I'm old and grey, and a sexy man with a cane will walk by and I'll finally know love. His (God's) time is different than mine. That's for sure. I need to stop filling my emptiness with that physicality. But words and melodies just make me wish I had someone to hold.

CURRENTLY LISTENING:
Plushgun- Just Impolite
Friday night became so lonely,

When you came to make a break,

That seemed to take all day to make me angry 'cause I

Like you, maybe I'm just Like You

Holding on to something that we know we can not hold

or fold it seems it seems we just can't forget

Are you frightened, by perfection?

Is this who you are, not who you want to be,



I walk the line like Johnny Cash

I made the bus in seconds flat

I called your line too many times

I'm not obsessed, just impolite.



Sunday came and went so quickly

now you say you want me back

you will hold on, despite my cons,

it seems we're meant to hate it!

Being so dependent.

But it seems we can believe that we're two peas in this pod

we call New York, gets so lonesome.

Are you frightened, by neglection?

Am I who you want to see yourself to be?



I walk the line like Johnny Cash

I made the bus in seconds flat

I called your line too many times

I'm not obsessed, just impolite



You're stuck on me, you don't know why

Can't leave me anytime you try

They say that everybody cries

so don't think twice 'cause it's alright.



Stay here,

touching you, touching the light in your eyes

that keeps coming back

June 15, 2009

borders

physicality/loss of true personality/defined by an empty touch/distanced by a one night demoralizing fuck/thought you could love so much/memorizing silhouetting outlines/of the face/that put you in your place.back to the wall/head bent in submission/praying to a silent god/to prove your suspicions/and put an end to your superstitions/fingers crossed/I pinky swear/that with each last breath/I’ll thank God for the air/and science for the protest/that it wasn’t Him who put it there/there is more to this reflex/backing away from the pretext/white flags/we shun fags/and throw ou the dirty rags/not healed from our leprosy/our lack of controlled celibacy/we lose every limb we had once intended to keep/its just a physicality/this thing between you and me/not it’s not deep/secrets we never intended to keep/like how you fucked that girl/instead of me/how I ran away from home/watched my life bleed/but it’s blood that wiped me clean/and dreams that keep me sane/no longer the same/yet I wince at your name/at your picture/the fixation/the realization/is to come in time/yet for now now/lost in the how/I could write on and on/ what worth are words/well they are my soul/but tonight they they are what it takes to make me a little bit more whole/a broken record plays through my head/sleep won’t come/neither will the waking dead/I spit on the ground/wait for the sound/disapproval/removal/from living in acceptance/my selfish negligence/ write words/shout a curse/my tongue swerves/my lips curve/I whisper/STOP/the clock drops/its meandering hand/on the small of my back/borders crossed/time lost/my eyes are not for turning back

June 14, 2009

Very, very, tired...
I'm mad at myself for having so many thoughts, but not feeling like putting forth the effort to put them into words.

I'm struggling with the friendship thing. I'm glad for those I have, but often I want more. I need to be more grateful I guess.

Tomorrow I'll try and write more.

I hate pining over people I will probably never meet...

that is all...
goodnight

June 13, 2009

So, I'm trying to make this a daily thing. However, I seem to always let the frivolous little following get in the way. I'll check my e-mail, see what friends are up to on facebook, see if any decent guys have "stalked" me on okcupid... all very stupid, time consuming acts not by any means adding to who I am as a person.

So I blog.

Tonight I watched "He's Just Not that into You" with my mom and my sister. I really don't like chick flicks because they leave me feeling just like I'm feeling at this very moment... alone. This is a constant struggle and something I whine and complain about way too often. I'm constantly searching for the magical knight in shining armour to come ride up on his shiny fixed gear... tattoos and bearded scruff... musky aroma... singing out to me lyrics from Bright Eyes and Death Cab... "I will follow you into the dark" But no luck yet, and my journey, well I haven't really just let the knight come to me, I've been in hot persuit, and it's gotten me no good leads. So, do I follow the movie and just wait for a man to come along? You know they say that in the movies, but then someone always comes along... Oh Eisley... "I went for so long, and I was so wrong, but then I found you, and now I can't live without you, and I don't want to..." This is not as constructive as I'd hoped...

Two years ago I started doing this thing called "online dating" and let me tell you it has allotted for some interesting "relationships"...
sex driven relationships
used
complimented
belonging
but ultimately... smaller...

I know that you never loved me;
I know that you never cared at all,
No my love we can't be friends,
In fact I liked you much better
When you'd just pretend.

What am I searching for?

june 12, 2009

"These people come near to me with their mouth and honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. Their worship of me is made up only of rules taught by men. Therefore once more I will astound these people with wonder upon wonder; the wisdom of the wise will perish, the intelligence of the intelligent will vanish."

This verse compelled me today. Not sure why, but it captured my interest. Lately, I have been crying out more and more with a lack of answers, or atleast the answers I want. My soul is not in it's healthiest position. I'm of this world and in this world and I don't really care. I go to church for community, yet I think secretly I just want to find my soulmate, and the decent guys are all in the church pews or on their knees, right? I know I'm not persuing healthy things. I know these "rules taught by men", but I don't really feel the need to follow them. What damage does it do to disconnect, to sleep around, or to drink socially, with a limit of course- as long as there is no attachment or dependency involved. But there is, especially for me. God gave me the strong desire to love people, and this love, well lately, it hasn't been used to glorify Him as it should. The Lord says in this verse that he will "astound" with "wonder upon wonder" and I've been hearing it over and over again, that if I just listen to God and if I meditate on what He wants me to hear I will see wonders outside of this world... but I'm not. Patience, perhaps.

music makes sense... that's about it for now... I'm listening and waiting...

introductions are in order

today
june 11
summer of 2009
i don't know what's in me entirely
i figure that perhaps
it's what's in me
that's making me question again
question morales
and where i get my meaning
writing has always helped
my relentless cries

that's why i started this today
talking it out has been great
but i figure i spend so much time on the internet
facebook
silly dating cites
myspace
searching
i could try to put this search into a concrete blog
i'm probably behind the times
a diary has been my main source of escape for as long as i can remember
but there's something about the methodic tapping of the keys
its musical

so
who knows what will come about
perhaps it's just the dreary day turned into sunshine
mother nature having her way with my emotions
but i feel like this will be good for me

i am a runaway
while i try to cling on to this world
i fall farther and farther away from Him
"outwardly i waste away...
yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day"
i can't seem to fix my eyes on the right thing
i hope that writing about this
and inviting criticism
and critique
and honesty
will build be up
i am a runaway

and relentlessly
i cry
more of you
less of me
i want to draw near